I use to be invincible, or at least that is what I use to think. I was a teenager and up until that point I had been in a few accidents, but nothing as compared to the one on that March evening. That accident would not only take my beloved car, but would also alter my life.
One of my greatest possessions, was my ’94 Ford Mustang. Van Gogh, named for his mixed paint job, was red and grey with a clean body. When I got him he wasn’t running, but after a couple hundred dollars and a few new parts, my dad and I had him working like new. He wasn’t the prettiest or the fastest, but he was a product of our hard work. I would’ve never imagined that it would only take a few minutes for all that hard work to go to waste.
It was a night like any other, I was going fifty-five, traveling down the jet black highway. I was listening to the radio and focused on getting to my dad’s house before the evening grew any later. Normally the traffic is sparse and that night was no exception. In the distance I could see the flashing lights of a car in the emergency lane. As I approached, I decided that it would be safer moved into the lane furthest from the disabled vehicle, this decision would later turn out to be the best decision I could have made.
Before I could completely transition from one lane to another I felt a jolt, unlike anything I had ever felt before. In the blink of an eye my car came to a stop and my body erupted with pain. Dazed and disoriented, I sat still, glass spread across my
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I gripped the wheel and made a sharp left and went up the curb into the heavily landscaped median. My shiney black Charger went airborne, grazed a tree and landed on top of some shrubbery. A disaster had been averted, I was humiliated and ashamed at my negligence, but we were all alive. The people in the car ahead of me with the terrified eyes never even pulled over, they just kept on going. I sat there atop the shrubbery in my sleek black Charger, first laughing and then weeping. I never played the radio that loudly again, and that was the last time I cruised Gratiot Avenue. It was a lesson that was not lost on me. I still love cars but that moment was a slingshot into adulthood, where my carerfree reckless world gave way to booster seats, and insurance rates. Don't get me wrong, I still get goosebumps when I hear the sound of a six cylinder hemi, but from that night on I learned to understand and respect the responsibility that comes with that kind of
The car was completely compressed so we weren't able to move on our own free will. The police had to shut down all four lanes of the causeway. Barricades were put up on both ends and no one was allowed near my car besides authorized personnel. While the fireman sawed off every door of my Envoy, three ambulances awaited us. Brandon on the other hand was in such bad condition that he had a fifty percent chance of living. I looked back at him and his neck was snapped forward and his mouth dripped in blood his face looked completely lifeless. His face was turning blue from suffocating from the seat belt that entangled his neck. They immediately sent Brandon on his way to the hospital on a Helicopter. You could hear the propellers of the helicopter wailing over everything else that was going on, even the sawing of the doors. One by one each of us were put onto a stretcher. Everyone soaked in blood not saying a word to one another and in a state that none of us were able to move. All I could hear were the moans of pain from my friends and the horns in the distance from the impatient onlookers.
The speakers were blaring AC/DC’s “For Those About to Rock”, my hands saluting in the air, I was headed to bear lake in my car and was well. Then it happened. A full 900 degree barrel, on the interstate going 80mph. So there I was sitting on the interstate, in the dark, upside-down in my car. The cause of this crash was a simple fluke. My right tire was not inflated and it popped. So when I hit the brakes my car dug into the road and flipped. At this point in my life I had never had something that dramatic happen. For the next week and a half I found glass, in crevices it should never be found.
It was somewhere between a t-bone and a head-on collision. Everything was in slow motion as debris flew right before my eyes, the force of impact stole my breath. I only regained my breath and my voice after the collision. As soon as I caught my breath, a truck, other than the one that struck me, sped off. I yelled for help, and two people from Taco Bell came to my rescue. My dad was working in Louisiana, and when my mom arrived on the scene she was glaring, I thought that she was angry, but she was actually relieved that I was okay. Although I was not significantly hurt, I had a large bruise on my arm. When I talked to my dad on the phone that night, he told me, “We can always buy a new car, but we can never get a new
I decided to sit in the front as the navigator alongside with my father having possession of the wheel. As my father was driving, my sister was explaining why she is so excited to watch the movie. My sister then proclaimed, “It’s a movie that is based on the novel written by Suzanne Col--.” At that moment my sister stopped midway through her conversation, pointing with fear at a motorcyclist having blood gushing through his leg. The man glanced deep into my eyes, and I thought in my mind that will never happen to me. It was a tragedy when I observed the accident, and I was acting a bit too conceited. Two miles had passed the traffic from this accident was tremendous, a full stop. Luckily, my father spotted in the corner of his pupil that the nearest lane to the sidewalk was accessible, and nobody was driving on it surprisingly. We went ahead to move to the right, changing lanes carefully to reach the lane. At that instant, my dad then increased speed to 45 miles per hour to get to the theatre slightly quicker. As we were advancing through this lane at immense speed, a Toyota Civic with a brown tint then tried to change lanes. My dad was furious that he did not want the car to cut him off when it was his right of way. My dad then commented with a temper, “No!” Stomping on the gas pedal, he increased his acceleration to a rushing 75 miles per hour to prevent the car from cutting us off. The car continued to change lanes carelessly without a turn signal. At that moment, all I remembered was glass being shattered everywhere. My heart then stopped, and I was whiplashed with massive force having my head collide with the dashboard. Furthermore, all I saw was pitch black, and I did not know what was happening. After six minutes have passed, I regained some consciousness, shaking my head and trying to gain coordination with my eyes. All that I could hear is an old woman’s voice with
The sudden deceleration blunt force I had to endure upon impact my whole body took a violent jolt sideways and backward I could feel my muscles and ligaments in my body being stretched and twisted beyond my natural limits and even though I was wearing my seat belt , the force of impact slammed my head int the drivers side window. I lost consciousness for a few seconds. Someone called 911 , I can not remember much after that , my head was
In an instant the car didn’t stop. Our car was bigger than it so it ricocheted off us. My mom’s car airbags deployed at 400 miles per hour, but my mom put her arm out to stop mine. The doctor said if she hadn’t done that, I would’ve broken a few bones in my face, and maybe my neck. Meanwhile in the other car, he went flying in the other direction, luckily he didn’t have a passenger because the whole side of the car was smashed in. After the airbags deployed, she anticipated hitting the telephone pole. My mom had taken this route to work everyday for 6 years, but she was wrong. We drove straight into the soybean field. My mom couldn’t touch the brake to stop the car so we drove through half of the field before stopping. Splosh, splosh of all the water and mud splashing as we got out of the car. My mom yells my name to make sure I am okay, then we hustled over to the other man’s car.
Shattered pieces of glass lay scattered all along the street. The light pierced my eyes as I noticed the remnants of the two vehicles. I remember three, no, four bodies. Time ceased to move as I could only watch. I struggled to understand what had just occurred. The experience was surreal, and I could not believe my eyes.
There was nothing I could do, it was too late. The last minute of the collision was like a dance as the two vehicles twisted and circled and then embraced each other as they slumped to the ground with such power. The noise of the crash rang in my ears. Glass flew in every direction. I screamed over the music. I was paralysed in terror as the heavy metal truck crushed onto the top of my car. All I could taste in my mouth was the numbing sensation of warm, salty blood. Out of nowhere the dark red substance was all over me, it oozed from every place of my body. I closed my eyes and wondered if I was going to die. The last thing I could recall before I passed out was a blue bird swooping through my car window, then blackness filled my head as it hit the steering
It was a cold rainy night much like any other until we pulled up at a stoplight and all the sudden the unthinkable happened. All the sudden my car was propelled forward with so much force I had no idea what just happened. I was so shaken it took me a minute to realize what happened, my mom was yelling at me thinking I had hit something but it was the other way around. I had just been rear-ended.
The car went tumbling in the air the were tumbling for about a half a mile. At that moment I realized that I just lost my friends.
I remember the moment I realised that a crash was inevitable, I curled up into the “armadillo” position and braced myself for impact. I wasn’t scared at all my instincts took control and my body went into auto functionality; I went
When you stare at the stars for too long your vision will blur, and if you don 't blink the stars will disappear and you will be left with the empty night sky. I can 't count how many nights I spent lying in my driveway staring at the stars. My best friend and I had made a habit of staying out too late laughing and crying until there was no light left. When I remember these times I always remember Abby 's shoes. She and I used to prop our feet up against the bricks of my house and just talk about whatever came to mind. Her red converse next to my bare feet. Although, we fed off each other in a way because whenever one of us was upset or angry the other was sure to follow. We had not been apart much during our lives. When I was 5 she moved
I had been driving for hours trying to make it home to the cottage for new years after performing a big show out west. I’m sure I have told you about not being the most on time person more than once by now, and it is quite true. This time though I was very committed to making it back before midnight. I had left early in the day, was now only a few hours from home, and it wasn’t even eight yet! I was even feeling pretty content of myself that is until the car in front of me slammed on his brakes. Now I don’t know if you guys have ever been on the inside when a car gets hit but let me tell you it is not fun, especially when that car gets hit by someone going 100 km/h. Everything happened so quickly, the blazing bright flash of the brake lights, the sound of screeching metal, and then everything just went black.